PlanetFargo

PlanetFargo: Law & Disorder

The lawyer working for the defense was a chiseled man in his late 40s, immaculate in a double-breasted suit with shoes so shiny I had to squint whenever I looked down. He circled in front of the witness stand like some sort of predator while the sweat welled up on my forehead and started dribbling down my cheeks with burning terror. Finally he spoke.

"Mr. Fargo," he uttered, calmly. "Are you trying to tell us that you disavow any and all responsibility for your own actions?"

"Yes, yes I do," I admitted. I turned and addressed the judge directly: "In truth, I'm a meat-puppet, your honor. I'm a mindless slave to the digital image. It's been this way ever since I was a small boy feeding quarters into the Donkey Kong machine: I found that afterwards the urge to jump over barrels was insurmountable. Irrepressible! I jumped over barrels without provocation regardless of the context, appropriateness, or circumstances. Even if they were on fire."

The tears came.

The opposing lawyer was unmoved. He leaned into the witness stand, causing me to scoot backwards uncomfortably in my chair. "Isn't it true that you were under the influence of 'shrooms the day you took that fateful drive!?"

I shifted uncomfortably, a hundred pairs of eyes upon me. Finally I spilled the truth, again addressing the judge directly: "Yes, yes this is true, your honor. My understanding was that eating mushrooms would enable me to grow to twice my normal size and punch through brick walls. I am the victim here."

"You crashed into a local pharmacy, sideways, at over 80 miles per hour!" hollered the attorney.

"I was stunned to discover that my car was capable of rolling or taking damage!"

"Upon crashing into the drug store, you stepped out of the vehicle and began eating every pill in sight!"

"ALL PILLS MUST BE EATEN BEFORE THE GHOSTS GET ME!!"

A short recess was called, because my choking sobs had rendered me unable to continue. When the court came back in session, it was Ken Kutaragi, President of Sony Computer Entertainment, who next took the stand.

Although Kutaragi spoke some English, over the next several minutes, a translator explained to him the details of the case in Japanese so that there would be absolutely no confusion. Still, a puzzled grimace spread over his face as his listened, and finally he looked around the room and spread his arms open.

"You all ... crazy talking!" He exclaimed.

I leapt out of my chair. "Tell it to the judge!" I screamed.

"...I just did!" he answered.

The details of the excruciating trial that followed would be too lengthy to chronicle here. Suffice it to say that Kutaragi was led away by meaty bailiffs, handcuffed and in leg irons, protesting feebly as they shoved him behind bars -- perhaps forever.

I breathed with relief amidst the shuffling of chairs that followed. "It wasn't easy extraditing that bastard," my lawyer told me, patting me on the back. "But now, by the grace of God and due process, perhaps we've brought his reign of terror to an end."

As we left the courthouse we passed Michael Jackson on his way in. "Look at what The Sims made me do to my face!" he cried.